


Married An Icarus

by penseavenir17



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2018-10-16 05:51:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10564926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penseavenir17/pseuds/penseavenir17
Summary: The world has no right to my heartThe world has no place in our bedThey don’t get to know what I saidI’m burning the memoriesBurning the letters that might have redeemed you.





	1. Mornin', Darling

**Author's Note:**

> So I opened my computer to write another chapter of Forever Gone but then this happened. I'm going to keep working on both of them because I think I like where this is going. Also, I totally had to do the Hamilton thing because duh.

He woke up and turned to his left. He saw a girl with shiny platinum blonde waves lying in a lace purple bra, wrapped in a grey wool throw blanket under the cover next to him. Her name had slipped his mind. Was it Candy? Or Dolly? Or Brenda? By this point there had been so many that they all kind of blended together. He glanced over at the end table which had her ID on it. Her name was Cassie Pennington. Born on the 19th of June in 1956, she was a decade younger than him which although seems outrageous is in fact an improvement. She looked a great deal like the others, her hair was light, her eyes blue, she wasn’t stick skinny, and she was absolutely stunning. She slept so gracefully but he took little interest in not waking her as  he bustled around the room. He slipped into the bathroom to shower and get ready as Cassie arose. She wandered around the hotel room clearly snooping until she reached the archway to the bathroom. He glanced over at her.

“What?” He asked 

“Oh nothing,” she began clearly looking for something, “last night was amazing.” 

He spoke without taking his eyes off the mirror, “I guess.” 

“So will I see you again?” She asked in what was clearly an attempt at a seductive voice although it fell short. 

“I think so.” He really didn’t know how he felt about her but she was good enough that he would stick her in his rolodex of women. 

“Governor, are you ready?” He heard from the other side of the hotel room door. Room 207 of the Capital Hotel  was certainly something special but not something to stay in for too long.

He turned to Cassie, “I’ve got to head out,” and before she could even open her mouth to respond, he was out the door. 

\---

She had waited up for him for most of the night so by the time morning came she was exhausted. She was awoken by her young daughter running into her room.

“Mama, Mama!” The little girl in bright yellow pajamas screamed as she darted on to the wood bed.

“Yes, my dear.” She responded still lying with her head in the pillow and hair all frizzed up.

“Get up Mommy! It’s time for breakfast!” The girl said with the largest smile on her face. 

Hillary sat up and brushed her hands through her daughter’s blonde curls, “Okay darling, I’ll be down in just a moment.” With that young Chelsea skipped out of the room, closing the door on her way out. Hillary got out of bed and slipped a maroon bathrobe over her silk baby-pink nightgown before making her way down the steps. She was greeted by her daughter already waiting with her legs kicking at the kitchen table.

“Alright my dear, what do you want for breakfast?” Hillary asked as she walked into the kitchen.

“Pancakes!” Chelsea said with a sense of urgency and excitement that seemed almost onerous. Hillary began to make pancakes while talking with Chelsea about simple things like school and ballet but then Chelsea paused for a moment. 

“Mommy, where’s Daddy?” She asked in a voice that was so innocent that it broke Hillary’s heart.

“Daddy’s working.” 

“Can I see him?” 

“He’s not home sweetheart, he’s at a work thing. I’m sorry.”   
“Okay.” Chelsea said looking down at her feet in a tone that stung for Hillary just as much as the truth did. 

“Come on babygirl, let’s go get you ready for school.” She picked up Chelsea from the chair and carried her on her hip up to her bedroom. She picked out her clothes, she helped her brush her teeth, and she tamed her curls. It was almost cathartic, but not quite. It was time to leave so Hillary clinched Chelsea’s little hand and walked her out the front door. As Hillary opened the door, a car pulled up into the driveway and a man with brown hair and blue eyes, about 6 foot 2 got out. 

“Daddy!” Chelsea exclaimed as her dad ran to pick her up.

“Hello, princess!” 

Hillary looked at her husband with disdain, she loved this man to death and beyond but his careless way of ripping at her heart strings until they snap and then releasing them like an elastic band hurt her, it hurt her more than she could articulate. 

“We were just leaving for school,” Hillary said. She didn’t want to pull Chelsea from her father but she did want to get her to school. 

“Well okay then, I’ll see you tonight Chels.”

After Chelsea ran off to get into the car, Hillary grabbed Bill by the arm, 

“How was she?” She asked as if she was in a scene from a soap opera.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean.” He said in a way just condescending enough to make her snap.

“Don’t pull that crap on me William. I had to lie to our daughter this morning to save your ass but six isn’t far from ten and by then she’ll have a clue.” She turned away from him and stomped to the car and his face froze. He didn’t want to do this to her, to either of them, but he couldn’t stop either. He walked inside somberly and she drove off in her little green car, the  _ Clinton for Governor  _ sticker slowly fading away. After dropping off Chelsea, Hillary had to get to work but she made a quick stop at a coffee shop. She walked in the building and ordered a latte. When it came, she grabbed the coffee with both hands and walked out the door.

“Hey!” She heard behind her, she quickly turned her head around, her long bob bouncing as her neck moved.

“You’re the governor’s wife, ain’t you?” A woman who looked about sixty in a grey t-shirt and jeans approached Hillary with iced tea in hand.

“Well yes, I guess so.” Hillary said without her faux southern drawl that she had adapted in the last couple years. 

“Aren’t you pretty! Where are you off to so early?” The woman asked. Hillary knew she probably shouldn’t say work and instead mention that she just dropped Chelsea off but it was kind of a fuck it moment.

“I work down the block at Rose Law Firm.” She said proudly.

“Darling, you’re a Yankee with a job. How the hell did you wind up in Little Rock, Arkansas?” The woman asked seemingly upset by Hillary’s answer. 

“You just said it, I’m the governor’s wife.”

“Oh.” She responded in a rather snarky manner, “Well I better get home, have a nice day Mrs.Clinton!” 

The woman waved goodbye and Hillary walked back to her car and started driving to work. Halfway down the street, she turned the car around and drove home. 


	2. Standin' Over Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hillary just wanted to prove a point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed to fill the beginning with Chelsea because she seems to be the only light. I hope you like this because I have no clue where it's going. The only thing I can promise you is to not get used to how this played out. Enjoy :)

Chelsea got off of the yellow school bus from Booker Elementary and ran into her mother’s arms.  
“How was your day noodle?” Hillary asked her little girl as she took her backpack from her and put it in her left hand, her daughter’s small warm fingers clinched to the other.   
“Great! I played soccer during recess and in reading I got to read a chapter in front of the class. I need to get a picture of us and daddy for…” Hillary’s mind had dozed off at this point. She wanted to pay attention but the second Chelsea mentioned her father, she couldn’t listen anymore. The two girls walked their way up to the house, pointing out their favorite rocks along the way until they reached the door.   
“Chels, Ms.Taylor is picking you up for ballet in a hour!” Hillary shouted as she let Chelsea’s little fingers slip out of her hand. Chelsea ran inside up to her room so fast that by the time Hillary finished talking she was already sitting on her blue bedspread upstairs. Hillary was more glad today than ever that she wasn't doing carpool, she could have time to think things over. Hillary decided to call one of her best friends, Diane. She told herself it was to talk but in the back of her mind she knew that Diane knows everyone and if anyone could tell her who the girl is, it was Diane.  
“Hey darling!” She heard from the other side.  
“Diane, how are you?” She asked, clearly trying and failing to be hospitable.   
“Oh I’m absolutely swell. Work is going well and the kids too.” Diane told her being extra cautious not to mention her husband.   
“And how is Jim?” Hillary asked her.  
“Jim is doing just fine but I know you didn't call to exchange pleasantries. So tell me my dear, what is on the brilliant mind of one Hillary Rodham Clinton?” Diane asked in her true-to-style spunk, “Is it work? I doubt that, work always seems to be going great with you. It's Bill, isn't it? He was out with that new skank from Interior last night and you want to know her deal?” Hillary paused, Diane knew her so well that it scared her sometimes.  
“Well, I guess it is.” Hillary said quietly.  
“I don't know much about her but I know she's from Tennessee, moved here last month to work in Sec of Interior’s office. Nobody knows why they sent her. Her name was something awfully trashy, Cassie I think. Cassie Pennington. Nothing more than a pretty face, as far as I can tell.” Diane had set to rest all of Hillary’s immediate fears.   
“Jesus! Honestly I can’t stand that man. Is it really that hard to keep your damn pants zipped?” Hillary said, mad enough that her head looked like a tomato.   
“You say that, but you don’t mean it,” Diane said, “You love that little boy to death despite all of it.”   
“You don’t know that!.” Hillary snapped.  
Diane didn’t wait a minute before responding, “Oh but I know you and I know him and I know that you two are magnets when it comes to the other.”  
“That’s not true.” Hillary said before slamming the phone down. Hillary’s a lot of things but stubborn is one of the strongest traits in her and when she is given a point to prove, she’ll make it work. She marched down the hall and into her husband’s office. He was sitting at his desk, glasses perched on his nose reading some papers when he looked up and saw his wife standing in the door frame. Her hair was in a light brown bob framing her face and her clothing true to the decade with her tiny frame drowning in her large skirt suit.   
“Hello princess,” He said in a tone just cocky enough to make her roll her eyes.   
“Don’t princess me,” She said as she stepped into the room.  
He looked her up and down, wondering what she was here for, “Alright then. Hillary, what’s going on?”   
“You’re gonna keep your damn pants zipped.” She lifted her chin up as she was incredibly proud of herself for managing to get those words out of her mouth.   
Bill put his glasses down on his desk and closed his binder before slipping out of his chair. He walked around the desk to meet Hillary in the middle of his office. He’s just under a foot taller than she so it wasn’t hard for him to LBJ her.   
“I’m sorry,” He said.  
Hillary bit her lip, tightened her back, and looked him in his eyes, “You heard me. Pull your dick out of all the sluts and then zip it in your pants. “   
“Yes I heard you,” he said speaking slowly with his southern drawl even more pronounced, “I said I’m sorry.” He put his hand on her upper arm.   
She narrowed her eyes and flared her nostrils, ready for battle, “Sorry doesn’t mean shit. Sorry doesn’t mean homework with your daughter after dinner. Sorry doesn’t mean keeping your wife up all night waiting for you. Sorry doesn’t mean countless hotel bills in the mail. Sorry doesn’t mean making pancakes in the morning. Sorry doesn’t mean shit, sorry isn’t worth shit. You think you can just waltz in here, spell out sorry in your soup, and twirl your little girl around like nothing happened. That’s not going to fly any longer. Do you understand me William?”   
He took an audible breath as his face sunk. He loved his baby girl more than nearly anything and the only thing he loved more was his wife. He didn’t want to break them or hurt them but at the same time he can’t seem to stop. “I hear you.” He said.   
“That’s it? You hear me? Give me something!” She shouted.   
“I don’t know what to tell you my dear. I don’t want to hurt you or Chelsea. That’s important to me. So I’m sorry that I did.” He said in a soft, loving voice.   
“Will you end it?” She asked, she was of course expecting a yes answer however the milliseconds between her question as his response felt like more than an eternity.   
“Yes, my princess.” He slid his hand up her arm and behind her neck. She smiled before leaning in. They started to kiss and he pushed her against the wall, closing the door with his foot.


	3. Hill? You Okay?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She just can't take it anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So um I haven't updated this in six months. Essentially, I had zero time. My life got absolutely insane and never calmed down. But I've reached a point where I've decided that I can't use that as an excuse. I'm going to find time to do things I enjoy while still being a functional human being in society. So hopefully this kicks that way of being off well.

Six weeks had past since Hillary's confrontation turned witty banter love fest and life seemed more at peace. Bill had been more aware of when he was home and was always sure to be there when Chelsea went to bed and woke up. That didn’t mean he had stopped and she knew that on some level, but she certainly didn’t want to admit it. After that one night, not much changed between them. They weren’t much warmer. During the few nights he was home, they slept in the same bed. But sharing a king sized bed doesn’t do much for people when they each sleep facing different walls. Most nights weren’t that cold, just lonely. Just after Chelsea was put to sleep, Bill went off. Sometimes Hillary would work on a case or read a book or make a call until she was ready to crash. Then she would walk into her room. It was dark and empty but that was less the lack of people and more the lost spirit. Hillary had never been one to shy away from being outspoken but she regretted it in this most recent instance. Before, he had strayed. It wasn’t like that hadn’t happened. But he was with her. No matter who he fucked, she was his Hilly and he needed her more than anything. But that one night changed that. Now he was just like any other philandering husband. He showed up when he needed to but he was never truly there. His heart was in another place. It wasn’t because there was love elsewhere, just because he didn’t want it to be at 1800 Center Street. She was absolutely convinced of this. She’s well read and knowledgeable when it comes to people. Everyone in the state could tell you she’s smarter than him but there’s something she always would seem to forget. Emotional intelligence is just as prominent in situations like her’s and she never had much of that. He oozed it. Everything about him had something to do with people. He loved people and people loved him and maybe all of this was just a part of his love of people. 

Hillary was pulling up to house, in her little green car at about 5:00. A valet met her at the door but she insisted on opening her own car door, it was one of those things that just seemed completely absurd to her. She went inside, business as usual. She wasn’t done with work but she was going to do the rest from home so she could be there to watch Chelsea’s piano lesson taking place in the sun room. She followed the sound of ungracefully clunking keys toward the baby grand piano facing out on the state house. She came up behind her daughter so she wouldn’t disturb her and saw the little girl struggling to reach her hand over. Her husband stood up and pushed the teacher aside, 

“Here, just pick up your hand and move it,” he guided her movement, placing her soft little fingers in his hands, the ones she loved so much. Hillary had the biggest smile just watching them. It was as if, in those few seconds, she could fall back in love with him all over again. But that couldn’t be it. She hated him right now and it was justified. Hillary began to pace. How was it possible for her to want to strangle this man, scream loud enough that someone in an actually functional state could hear, and chop all of his hair off because he’s so cruel to her while also loving him with every possible bone and muscle in her body. Why did she have to love him? Was it some cruel joke that god was playing on her? What had she done to deserve it? Or was it a gift? Why? It seemed like an unbearable burden. 

“I just don’t understand,” She mumbled, “I just can’t understand.” 

She said it again.

All of the heads turned toward the crazy blonde lady pacing the foyer while mumbling to herself. 

“Hill? You okay?” Bill asked, looking rather concerned. 

“Oh I’m perfectly fine! I’m doing quite dandy as a matter of fact! Why would think otherwise? Is it because you are single-handedly trying to destroy me? Or maybe it’s because I prop you up to make you seem the least bit functionally to both our family and this state and you still manage to get all the credit for both. That’s probably it. Or is it a combination of the two of those?” Hillary was flailing her arms and moving around in a way that seemed indicative of the unstable woman scorned which she had never wanted to be. 

“It could just be that I’m done. I’m so sick and tired and I just want it all to end.” By now she was on the floor in near tears. Looking at Chelsea’s little face, with her mouth wide-open, she realized she had failed. She had done the  one thing she never wanted. She had broken the one person she loved more than anything. Now, seeing one moment of hysteria in the first decade of her life probably wouldn’t scar Chelsea for her entire existence but it certainly was not emblematic of the perfect childhood Hillary had designed for her. It was flawed and Hillary wanted nothing more than to shield Chelsea from all flaw and in that respect, she had failed which was just the nail in the coffin. 

By this point, she was in tears on the floor and nobody knew what to do with her. 

“Hilly, come on, let’s go upstairs.” Bill pulled her up and guided Hillary up to their bedroom. Hillary looked back at her little girl, who had already turned her attention back to the piano, and her heart shattered into eighteen million shards of glass.

They got into the bedroom and he closed the door before sitting her on the sofa at the foot of their bed.

“I’m not crazy, William. Don’t paint me as crazy.” She said. 

He got down on his knees right in front of her and clasped both her hands between his. 

“You are not crazy. You are just sick of it and I get that. I am so incredibly sorry.” His apology seemed so heartfelt and meaningful that she just wanted to cuddle up into him and cry but she knew she couldn’t. She knew that this is how he got her, that these words were eerily similar to the ones heard every time she confronted him. 

“I want to believe you William. I really, really do. I want nothing more than to believe you and make it all okay again.” He cut her off.

“Then let’s! We can start all over and do it right.” He said with that childish excitement that melted her heart. She got up and began to walk around. 

“We cannot do that because I cannot live like this. I cannot spend every waking moment of my life in whatever this is. I cannot breath, I cannot function. You have broken me, William Jefferson Clinton and you can’t just tell me you’re going to fix it and make it all okay because whenever you say that, you make it seem okay and it’s okay for you but I’m just going about my life slowly dying. You are killing me and I don’t want that because I love you. I love you more than I can articulate and I shouldn’t. You don’t deserve my love. You are toxic. But I love you. I adore you. I would do and have done anything and everything for you. I want to give you the world. I fucking love you bastard!” 

She fell into tears again and he ran to hold her. 

“I don’t know how to fix this but I will. I will spend all of my time fixing me. I will give everything up to make it all okay because nothing in the entire world is as important to me as you. It’s all you, darlin’ and I will spend every waking day from this moment on proving it to you because I love you more than anything and everything and you don’t deserve me. You deserve so much better, so much more but I will make this deal as good for you as it can get because I got the best deal ever. I got you. I got the most amazing thing in the world and you’re stuck with me but I’m going to make sure that I’m good enough for you. Not just good enough, but amazing.” By now they were both in tears. 

“Okay?”

“Okay.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate everything about the first couple paragraphs but I was in tears by the end so hopefully it turned out all right.

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you think :)


End file.
